Headed Home

Until this year I've always lived in the south where fall is a season that lasts anywhere from 2 day to 2 weeks. I'm used to the jump from summer to winter, no transition. Life tends to be that way for me as well - I just jump from one thing to another. I move around every few years because I get bored. I rarely, if ever, get attached to the places where I live. I don't tend to settle into a town or city. It just isn't my way.

This week I noticed that even though the daytime temperatures are still in the 80s (I'm living in Massachusetts this year), the mornings are a little chilly. A few leaves have flutter off the trees but not the full scale dump that is typical fall in Florida that I grew up with. My first exposure to living in a climate that experiences the change in season is that there's a sort of slow meander from one day to the next. It gradually gets cooler, a little at a time, early and late. In a month or two the days will be colder and the sun will be out less often.

Now you probably knew this already. You know how the seasons change, why the change and heck, why the Northeast is vastly different than Florida in terms of climate. But I've discovered that knowing is different than experiencing.

What I've experienced, this small shock to the system, has me itching to head home for a few days. I've been in need of a vacation for some time and I'm just getting around to it. So today, I'm headed home. To Orlando where the temperature is in the 90s, we've missed the threat of Hurricane Ike since it has sailed into the Gulf of Mexico (where it is becoming a threat to someone else, I know).

I've been craving sweltering days when I can walk around in shorts and flop flops with my hair pulled back and not caring what I look like or if anyone notices me. I don't care much about these things the rest of the time either, but I feel like I should. So I end up feeling guilty about not bothering with my hair, makeup or wardrobe half the time. The great thing about going home is that I just don't care what people think so I don't feel guilty. Once I'm in my comfort zone, I tune the rest out.

Returning home makes me feel like a reckless (and rebellious) teenager again. I do believe I will sit by the pool with a margarita in hand and watch the hot guys go by. Maybe I'll even head out to a club, you never know.

The one thing I do know is that for the 5 days I am home, I won't think about work, responsibility or the books I'm writing. I won't think about my age, what turning 30 meant to me or what it might me to you. Instead I will have fun. I hope you can too!